


how could you be so certain that we had no chance at all

by alicemurphy



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-ish, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Feelings, Protective!Charlie, Slow Burn, i hate writing dialogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicemurphy/pseuds/alicemurphy
Summary: Jen is in love and Judy is totally oblivious.OrJudy never let herself begin to consider Jen as anything more than a friend.Jen hurts because she wants more.
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Comments: 40
Kudos: 164





	1. Judy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is going to hurt. 
> 
> My other fic (the one where everyone but Jen knows) was basically the exact opposite of this. This is actually the original, with the other one being me needing a break from all this angst.
> 
> In that fic, Jen was super oblivious to her feelings, but in a kind of funny, cute, totally unenlightened way. 
> 
> Judy is more intentionally oblivious here – purposefully ignoring her feelings because she doesn’t think she could deserve to love her best friend. Which means that Jen thinks her love is unrequited, and it’s the most painful thing she’s ever experienced. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy
> 
> *title from Jason Robert Brown’s Still Hurting*

Judy has never let herself even begin to consider Jen as anything more than a friend.

At first, the idea of being anything more feels completely ridiculous – she had lied about Steve being dead, she had killed the other woman’s husband and was trying to keep it a secret – just thinking of Jen as a friend feels extreme for those first few weeks. Jen is simply someone she needs to help so she can make up for everything she had done, and that is all she could let her be.

But Jen finds out about Steve and still wants her in her life.

“Look, um, my guesthouse is open? You’re welcome to come and stay with us,” offers Jen awkwardly in ‘Judy’s’ room in the assisted living facility.

The brunette can’t believe what she’s hearing. Despite what she may think about herself, Jen really is the kindest person that she’s ever known. So, whilst moving in with her is such a stupid decision, can only lead to more hurt in the end, she just can’t seem to make herself say no.

And into the guesthouse she goes, and Jen lets her actually decorate it and she starts feeling at home in a way she never experienced before. And she lets herself start to tentatively think of Jen as something like a friend.

Judy still believes that their relationship is mostly founded in pity. The thought sits in the back of her mind all of the time, niggling away at her, and she’s not sure she’s ever going to be able to get past it. Jen might have said that she was taking pity on her as a bit of a joke, but she _should_ pity her. She is a barren, 41 year old woman with nowhere else to go after all.

And she is still harbouring the secret of who killed Ted. Jen is too good for her, too kind are caring to offer to take her in when she needs somewhere. She decides to just try to be grateful for this time that she gets to spend here, grateful for all the love and care that is being shown to her.

Judy promises herself that she will be the best friend Jen can ever have. At least that way, if one day her secrets come out and it all falls apart, she can know that she helped Jen as much as she could.

*

For a while, being Jen’s friend is perfect. Sure, she feels guilty for lying almost every second she spends in Jen’s presence, which is almost all of the time now, but she feels so loved too.

One night, as they’re sipping their wine and watching The Facts of Life, as is their nightly routine at this point, Judy sat carefully at the other end, being careful to respect any boundaries Jen might have. She knows her friend doesn’t like to be touched much, learned as much when Jen refused to hug her the day they met.

Yet, for someone so adverse to physical affection from basically everyone but Henry (and Charlie if he’s ever willing to give it), Judy sure is noticing that Jen is reaching out and touching her a lot.

She’s been pressing a hand against her back whenever they’re standing next to each other lately, or covering her hand with her own whenever they’re having a real conversation. Even now, with a gap between them, Jen has her arm up against the back of the sofa so she can reach Judy's shoulder, twirling her finger in brown hair whilst their concentration is elsewhere.

 _It's... nice_.

Judy so desperately wants to ask her what she’s doing, why she’s always touching her, _her_ , when she doesn’t touch anyone else, doesn’t show that level of care to anyone else. She can’t do that though.

As amazing as it is getting to be this close to Jen, physically and emotionally, she’s kind of scared of letting herself go any further in. She’s definitely scared of Jen getting in too deep, knowing that the more Jen cares for her, depends on her, the more horrifically painful it’s going to be when she finally finds out about Ted.

There’s maybe a tiny part of her that is scared of asking in case Jen says that she wants to touch her more, in case she doesn’t pull away. She’s not sure she could handle more than the occasional hand against her right now.

“Everything okay?” Jen asks, like she really means it, once she notices Judy hasn’t laughed at the show for the last couple of minutes, knowing this is one of her favourite episodes.

Judy shakes her head a little to clear it, offering the best smile she can muster and a “yeah, of course.”

She tries not to notice how her heart blooms when Jen gives her a smile back and her hand flattens against the back of her shoulder.

*

They go out dancing after the grief retreat. It's been a long, incredibly fun night, but now it’s 2am and Judy is tired and her feet hurt and she just wants to go home and sleep.

Jen does not.

The brunette doesn’t know why her friend has gotten this drunk today, especially knowing just how much alcohol this must have taken, but she still doesn’t feel comfortable prying too much in case Jen gets offended. And anyway, she can deal with one night looking after her drunken housemate.

“Come on, honey, time to get you home” Judy says, trying to pry her friend off the bar.

Jen's trying to order them more drinks, but the bartender has been pointedly ignoring them for the last 10 minutes. It’s probably because Jen's barely standing.

“Noo, this is too much fun, baby.”

Judy's breath hitches a little at the drunken pet name but she’s 100% sure Jen doesn’t notice with how intensely she’s swaying.

“Come on, we'll pick up pizza on the way". That has Jen's eyes lighting up a little at least.

It takes some man-handling, but eventually they are back on the sofa at Jen's, empty pizza box on the coffee table, the blonde dozing off on Judy's shoulder, the close contact making Judy nervous.

She really needs to make her escape back to the guesthouse, so she slowly starts to slip away.

“Jude?” she hears murmuring from beneath her.

“Yes honey?”

“Can you help me take my shoes off”

Judy chuckles a little at the innocence on Jen's sleepy, intoxicated face. Its not very often she would describe the other woman as innocent.

“Of course,” says Judy, and then a few seconds later, once the shoes are off and she’s gently manoeuvring Jen on the couch so she can lie down and covers her with a blanket, since that’s apparently where she’s going to be sleeping tonight, “there we go".

“Thanks babe" she hears muttered in response.

“Well don't thank me yet. I'll be back in here in like 4 hours to start making breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes do okay?” Judy asks, expecting the now-familiar ‘I love you' response that she gets whenever she mentions Jen's favourite foods.

“Mmm, I hate you", Jen says adoringly instead, well on her way to sleep.

The sentiment might have been the same, but Judy feels everything crashing down around her at what Jen just said.

She knows Jen doesn’t hate her, knows that meant that she loves her (and especially her food). She can feel the full weight of the affection behind what Judy said, knows that she was only joking.

But that's kind of the problem.

Because Jen _should_ hate her. She really _really_ should.

She shouldn’t be jokingly saying it whilst talking about pancakes. No, Judy deserves to have it screamed at her, right in her face, told it repeatedly over and over and over again.

Because Judy doesn’t deserve Jen's affection, her love. Not whilst she’s still lying to her, still trying to cover up Ted’s death.

Judy has to run all the way to the guesthouse to throw up in the bathroom.

She'd _forgotten_ , for an entire night, what she did to Jen. Not once, amongst all the drinks and dancing and looking intently at Jen to figure out what was up with her, had she thought about what she did to Ted. How she had destroyed her dear friend's family. How someday, she was surely going to have to break Jen's heart and tell her.

Judy didn’t sleep much that night.

*

Judy gets a little better with the guilt with time.

She learns that the key to it to jam all of her emotions so deep inside that she can’t feel anything anymore.

The paintings of the girls with no heart start to take on a bit of a different meaning. Instead of being about heartbreak, about loss, about lives that never got to be lived, they become emotionless. And if the girls start to look a little more like Judy herself with each new painting, well there aren’t any pictures of her as a child for anyone else to compare them to anyway.

While her art may suffer, the one advantage of Judy not feeling anything anymore is that she actually allows her friendship with Jen to grow; she lets Jen sit closer, starts reaching out to her, even opens up more than she ever thought she could.

And if, next to the guilt that’s hidden away deep inside, lies the feeling she gets every time Jen smiles at her or slides her hand against hers (for the millionth time that day), well, she doesn’t have to feel it anymore.

*

Then Jen finds out about Ted, and shit, yes, she is so angry, which Judy totally deserves, but somehow, they manage to get past it. Steve is dead and Judy is sad for a moment, but it doesn’t really matter, because he isn’t the only person that cares about her now.

Jen is her person now.

At first, it’s a little awkward, being back in the house with Jen and the boys. Judy doesn’t have all of her stuff anymore, not that she can bring herself to be upset with her best friend about burning it. It’s hard not to mourn the first space that she truly felt able to call her own being gone though – she doesn’t feel as comfortable in the guesthouse anymore.

There’s also that, as much as she doesn’t want to be, she knows she’s still a little uncomfortable around Jen.

She has nightmares of the night Jen found out, nightmares of it going the other way and finding Jen floating in the pool with Steve standing over her. Nightmares where Jen is screaming that she hates her and wants to get out.

It’s tough, and Judy so desperately needs it to get better, even if she doesn’t think they can ever get back to how they were before.

Jen seems to slip right back into their former lives, however, asking Jen to come and join her on their couch, watching old tv reruns and drinking wine as if nothing ever happened and Judy didn’t totally ruin her life.

Judy finds herself acting like they were when they first met, trying to keep a physical distance, trying to be respectful in case Jen decides to lose it and get angry and realise that she does actually hate her after all.

It never happens. Jen always pulls her closer, relaxing into her. Judy really wants to enjoy it, but she can’t shake the fear that maybe the blonde will change her mind.

On one of these nights, they’ve gone through their distancing ritual and Jen has once again won, holding Judy against her side whilst they watch whatever is on.

“I love you Judes” Jen says, after laughing at whatever ridiculous joke Judy just said, and Judy’s heart screams. It’s the first time Jen has said it since everything came to light and she can’t believe she didn’t notice how much she needed to hear it.

It feels like forgiveness, like acceptance, like everything might just be able to be okay again.

After that night, everything’s different. Judy starts to feel comfortable again. She doesn’t feel like she’s walking on eggshells all of the time. She doesn’t worry as much about Jen turning around one day and deciding that she hates her and wants her out.

Jen _loves_ her again, she really managed to keep their friendship through everything.

Judy has no idea how that happened, but she feels like the luckiest person alive.

*

Judy has always dreamed of being a mom. She’s always thought she might actually be sort of good at it, if she did pretty much the opposite of what her own mom and basically every other adult in her life had done.

Starting to become a mother to Jen’s boys is not where she thought her life was going, but she really can’t complain at all.

Every time Henry sees her, he lights up, running to her to hug her as fast as he can, and Judy’s heart stutters every single time it happens. And every time he asks for extra syrup for his waffles, or for help with calculus, or to watch some very weird cartoon with him in the afternoon.

Even Charlie makes her heart swell every time he mutters a ‘good morning’ whilst trying to run out the kitchen before Jen appears to question him about how he’s getting to school, and when he actually eats her food, even if he does grumble that it’s too healthy or doesn’t have enough meat in it.

One weekend, Judy has taken the boys shopping, trying to get them out the house for once whilst Jen is having to work, when they start arguing over the last candy bar on the shelf that happens to be both of their favourites.

Judy’s in a different aisle, but she rushes back when she hears their voices, preparing to try to break them up.

“Hey, Char, Henry, what’s going on?” she quietly intervenes, not wanting to draw too much attention to the group of them.

“Excuse me, ma’am, can you please get your kids under fucking control? Your sons are driving me crazy with their fighting,” says some woman next to her.

Judy freezes. She knows that the boys notice, because even Charlie starts looking at her curiously, but she can’t help it.

People think she’s actually a mom?

The rest of the shopping trip passes by in a daze for Judy, not really sure what’s happening or what Henry has been sneaking into the cart to make it that much more expensive than she was expecting when they get to the check out.

They load their food into the car, and Henry jumps in the back, but Charlie stops her before she can get in too.

“What, erm, what that woman said in there. You know we do sort of think of you as another Mom right? Maybe not quite the same as mom, but you do a lot for us, and you’re like family I guess? So, erm… thank you, or whatever.”

He sees Judy smiling, her eyes tearing up, and knows he needs to do damage control.

“I mean, Henry does anyway. I’m just happy there’s someone else to keep Mom off my back.”

Judy chuckles a little, knowing what he’s doing.

“Thank you, Charlie, that means a lot.”

“So, can I drive? We don’t have to tell Mom.”

“Absolutely not”, Judy says, trying to get her emotions under control so she can safely drive them home.

Judy manages to make it back to the house, dump the bags on the kitchen counter, and back to her bed in the guesthouse before she starts crying.

Judy has a family now. An actual family! People that really care about her.

She promises herself that she is going to do everything she can to protect them, to care for them and show them the love that they give to her. She is _never_ going to do anything to put her family at risk.

*

Judy can’t remember the first time she shared a bed with Jen, but now it happens all the time.

She does remember finding it a little awkward the first few times. She would sit, over the covers, talking until Jen fell asleep – _all the way asleep_ – and then would quickly make her escape back to her own bed in the guesthouse.

Sometimes, Judy would accidentally fall asleep whilst they were talking, and she would wake up in the morning still on top of the sheets, blonde hair brushing against her cheek and a head on her shoulder.

It’s nice, but Judy tries not to make a habit of it.

But on the tenth or twentieth time – Judy really isn’t sure anymore, is really trying _not_ to think too much about it – Jen peels back the covers when they’re getting comfortable. Judy accepts, figuring she can still just sneak out later, but she doesn’t, and she wakes up with Jen in her arms and feeling more at peace than she possibly ever has.

*

And now, after over a year of living together, life is very different for Judy.

She no longer has any problem with physical contact with Jen, constantly touching her or snuggling into her side on the couch or holding her when they’re in bed. And she expresses her love constantly, to Jen, to Henry, even to Charlie when he allows it to happen.

But Judy still will not allow herself to think of Jen as anything more than her best friend, her person, her family.

Even if Jen is happy now, even though Jen says she forgives her, Judy is still the person that destroyed Jen, the person that turned their boys’ lives upside down. She doesn’t deserve to think of Jen in that way, and she certainly doesn't deserve to have Jen like that.

And so what if occasionally her heart hurts when Jen’s eyes caught hers for slightly too long, or when Jen casually says “I love you” when Judy is sprawled across her on their sofa outside at night? Those feelings stay so deep inside the brunette, in that same space she created for Ted related guilt, that she honestly never even considers them anymore.

It would be ridiculous to think that Jen could ever want more for them - Judy did kill her husband and destroy her family. No, Judy would be incredibly thankful if she could spend the rest of her life like this.

She is so very, very grateful for what she has and nothing, not even the idea of _something better_ , could ever make her want to risk losing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing angsty Judy is really hard. I promise the next chapter (Jen!) will be better.
> 
> Jen’s chapter about 9 times longer and 99 times angst-ier. I needed Judy to go first though to try to explain why she is acting she way she acts. I couldn’t let anyone not understand her side and not like her in one of my fics.
> 
> Thank you for reading! 💖


	2. Jen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is a long time coming. 
> 
> For any of you reading Dear Friend, I should have another chapter up tomorrow.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 💖

Jen knows exactly what she’s feeling right from the very beginning.

Somewhere in the very first grief support group meeting, between the first time they smile at each other after Judy says her fiancé died and Jen offering her apologies, and Judy offering to be there for her in the middle of her sleepless nights, Jen _knows_ that this person is going to mean something to her.

When she does call her one night, Judy is so kind, so caring, wanting to listen to Jen, no matter what she is saying, and that kind of support is something so unfamiliar to her that she doesn’t really know what to do with it.

She does, however, know that her heart skips a beat a little when Judy lowers her voice to ask “what are you wearing”, and then again when they’re sat on her outdoor sofa, the glow of the tv catching Judy’s face just right and Jen almost can’t breathe.

The night they sit on the beach smoking pot together Jen almost leans in to kiss her new friend. Judy is just so sweet and lovely and non-judgemental, like some magical little pot fairy, and maybe the weed isn’t helping, the urge to lean in is so strong.

But she contains it, knowing that she just isn’t ready for that yet, not this soon after her husband. She can guess that Judy isn’t at all ready to move on from mourning Steve either, even if the flirting and the touching and the fucking _heat_ in Judy’s eyes all scream that everything she is feeling is very much reciprocated.

It’s okay though, that neither of them is ready. Being friends is probably all they can be for now, but Jen wholeheartedly believes that, assuming Judy is even half as interested as she is, the only thing in their way is time, and time will pass.

She leans her head against Judy’s shoulder instead, laughing as she lets the weed float her away.

*

Jen finds out Steve is alive, and it feels like the biggest betrayal. Not just because Judy has been lying about having the same grief as her, the thing that their entire friendship was built upon, but also because it makes Jen feel dirty.

She feels like she’s being cheated on, or is helping cheat on someone, or something. It’s completely irrational of course, because Judy is with neither her nor Steve right now, but Jen still feels a certain betrayal and jealousy that comes with Judy’s other love-interest _being alive._

She lets that form into anger and spew out of her into Judy, screaming at her at their grief support group, and she feels _so fucking awful_ afterwards that it’s no surprise she does something as ridiculous as ask Judy to come and live with her.

It turns out to be the best decision she’s ever made.

Getting to be closer to Judy is incredible. She knows it’s far too early to be using the big ‘L' word, but Jen can’t help but think it with an almost terrifying frequency.

It’s in the little moments when it comes to her the most.

Like when they’re standing together in the kitchen, Jen complaining about whatever nonsense Chris has been doing at work lately, and Judy is _really listening_ , smiling so gently at her to encourage her to keep talking. Jen can’t help but reach out and cover the other woman’s hand, needing to be closer, to thank her for being so damn incredible, despite how much she hates touching people.

Or when Jen is angry, and Judy is just there, letting her feel what she’s feeling, without judgement and without trying to stop her from yelling at the cashier at the store or smashing up some idiot’s car because they were driving a little too aggressively.

It’s strange, Judy never tries to stop her anger, never makes her feel that she doesn’t _deserve_ to be angry, never tries to talk her down and force her to be calmer.

And yet, Jen notices that she _feels_ calmer just by being in Judy’s presence. It’s not that she doesn’t want to disappoint or scare Judy by showing her feelings, like it is with her kids - she somehow knows that Judy would never want her to think like her anger isn’t a completely acceptable thing to be feeling.

It’s more that Judy is just a naturally calming person. Jen just finds it more difficult for her anger to rise when _Judy_ is next to her, smile blinding her, hand in her hand. How could anyone be angry with such a perfect ray of sunshine so close to them?

And then there’s seeing Judy around the boys.

Jen doesn’t think her heart has ever swelled as much as when she sees her children interacting with the brunette.

She’s such a natural with them that Jen considers it proof that there can’t be a God, because if there was she would already have 10 kids to shower with her kindness and adoration.

Jen can’t help but love how Judy tries _so_ hard with Charlie, getting nothing but abuse and suspicion back, but she never stops, cooking and cleaning and trying to help him however she can. She wants to scream at her oldest son to stop being such an utter asshole to such a wonderful person, but she mostly restricts herself to just hissing at him to cut it out.

Seeing Judy with Henry is a whole different story; Henry clearly hangs off of Judy’s every word, running to her side to hug her whenever she walks into the room. Jen’s almost jealous – she’s never been so good with Henry, he’s too pure and sweet and nice for her to be able to feel so comfortable around. But Judy is perfect, giving him all the care and attension he needs, seeming to love all his weird fascinations that Jen herself can’t deal with.

Jen fucking melts every time she witnesses it.

So, yeah, it turns out asking Judy to move in with them is pretty much the best thing she’s ever done.

It even means that she starts finally letting go of Ted.

As soon as she realises Judy is even the slightest bit uncomfortable, that is all the prompting she needs to finally get off her ass and start boxing away Ted’s stuff, making the step she’s been avoiding for so long just to make Judy feel a little more relaxed.

She feels better right away, knowing that Ted’s stuff isn’t everywhere haunting her.

It feels like she’s starting to let him go.

Ted’s gone now, and Judy is there instead, existing right next to Jen.

It starts to feel like maybe this is something she can really do, living her life with Judy. And maybe she isn’t ready to be in a full blown relationship yet, still has so much further to go in removing Ted from her life, but some deep part of her knows now that Judy is here to stay, and that it probably won’t be much longer until their lives are irrevocably intertwined.

*

It’s been weeks and weeks since they started living together, and Jen barely thinks about Ted anymore, the fucking bastard.

She stopped crying herself to sleep over him every night, stopped wearing his clothes and screaming into pillows about how unfair it is that he’s dead.

She starts to think a little more about the future.

Which basically means she starts to think more about Judy.

Trying to hold back what she’s feeling about her best friend is getting harder and harder. It doesn’t feel quite so wrong anymore, to think of Judy the way she truly wants to, to _love_ Judy like she’s feeling is inevitable.

And maybe she still isn’t completely 100% over her dead-husband, but she feels like she’s finally able to start _trying_ for something more.

She decides she should start putting herself out there just a little, not quite ready to jump on Judy and kiss her to death just yet, but maybe just enough to let her know that she’s ready for something, that she isn’t still in a state of mourning.

That Judy doesn’t have to keep being quite as perfect and considerate and respectful anymore.

Jen used to spend so much of her time thinking about whether Judy was ready for something more to happen between them, back when she thought that Steve was dead. She kinda assumes that must be what is going through Judy’s head now too – that the only reason Judy is waiting is because she doesn’t want to push Jen into something that she isn’t ready for and end up hurting her.

It’s so sweet, to Jen, that Judy could be that considerate, but it’s been months now, since Ted died, and honestly years since she had sex, and she just wants Judy to stop being so _fucking_ lovely for once in her fucking life.

The sex thing is hard not to get hung up on though.

Jen knows that she loves Judy, would love nothing more than to pull her to her and kiss her fucking face off until they’re both a sweaty panting mess.

She’s still not entirely sure if she’s ever going to be able to want to have sex again though.

Ted really fucked her up in that respect.

How the fuck is she ever meant to be comfortable with someone again, to be vulnerable, letting someone see her whole body, _her chest_ , after her own husband, the one person who was meant to unconditionally support her, was so incredibly repulsed by her?

Maybe she just isn’t ever going to want to be intimate with someone ever again.

She kind of believes that Judy would be okay with that, though, that Judy could cope with never being able to see her, to have each other like that, if only they get to continue living their totally celibate lives together as they are. 

Jen’s really trying not to think about it too much. They’ll get to it when they get to it.

Right now, she doesn’t want to let the fear around her body get in the way of letting herself _feel things_ for her friend.

So yeah, she’s ready to start trying, to start pushing things along a little.

She knows that Judy will never force her out of her comfort zone, she has so much trust in her not to hurt her.

Jen decides to start small, dropping little hints, just to see how Judy reacts, to let her know that she’s okay.

She starts touching Judy so much more, a hand on her arm in the kitchen, on her leg or round her shoulder when they’re sitting together, Jen pulling Judy closer any chance she can get.

Jen knows she should hate it, would find it completely disgusting to touch any other human this much – probably even her kids, because as much as she loves them and will always give them a hug, their clinginess when they were little sometimes became a little too far on the other side of annoying for her to always appreciate.

But the more she does it, the more she needs to. She becomes addicted to touching Judy, to seeing her relax under her touch or send her a smile because she’s showing that she cares.

So, she flirts, a little, teasing Judy about her crystals, complimenting her dress in the morning, touching her more than should be possible. And Judy always smiles, always reacts, freezing a couple of times sure, but always seeming to relax into it in the end.

She eventually drops an ‘I love you’, when they’re both teary-eyed and a little too drunk after talking about what utter dicks the recent men in both their lives were to them. She’s not really thinking about how she means it, whether she is trying to say she’s _in_ love or not, but she says it because she just needs Judy to know how much she cares, how she wants her in her life, how much she needs her.

“I love you too”, Judy immediately responds, and they’re both still crying, Jen pulling Judy into another hug, but Jen feels like, in that exact moment, everything in alright with the world.

*

One night, Jen by now so very far beyond having any restraint when it comes to physical contact between them, they’re snuggling on the sofa, tv on. Judy’s leaning into Jen’s side, their arms wrapped around each other.

It’s become their normal position, these past few weeks, and Jen loves it.

They still haven’t talked, and Jen knows that she really needs to hurry up and make that happen, but in moments like these, it doesn’t feel like such a rush.

When she’s holding Judy close, her heart _straining_ with all that she feels for her, it doesn’t matter that they’re still waiting for more. It’ll happen when it happens.

Jen never wants to move when she sits like this. She never wants to not feel this comfortable and open and happy ever again.

She sighs a little too loudly at the thought of getting to stay like this for the rest of their lives, and Judy of course hears, being practically _on her_.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice sounding so concerned, so genuine, that Jen’s heart feels impossibly fuller.

“Nothing. I’m just really comfortable here with you. I think I could stay like this forever.”

She means to keep the emotion out of her voice, she really does, but it doesn’t happen, and Jen hears all of the love and emotion inside it, all of the _meaning_ behind her words.

“Hmm, same” Judy hmms, with a little smile, and Jen pauses, trying not to frown, hoping that that wasn’t Judy’s real reaction to what she just _said_ , sort of.

Less than a minute later, Judy is up and out of Jen’s arms to go to the bathroom, barely saying anything, and definitely not acknowledging that she’s leaving fucking seconds after Jen practically asked her to stay with her forever.

Jen’s face falls, aching for the happiness and comfort she felt a couple of minutes ago.

She tries not to let herself feel too down about it. Judy probably just truly didn’t understand the other meaning - she wouldn’t have deliberately left her when she was being vulnerable.

By the time Judy comes back a couple of minute later, she’s convinced herself that everything is okay.

*

The first time Jen asks Judy to come to bed with her she thinks her heart is going to explode. She’s doesn’t think she has ever been so scared of a rejection.

She’s been trying to work up the nerve for a while now, imagining how could be like to hold Judy as she sleeps, to feel her next to her, to wake up in her arms and have the first thing she sees be Judy's smile.

She is so nervous, so scared, so _hopeful_ that this might finally be the moment that things change between them.

Judy clearly doesn’t get any of that.

It’s late, and Jen's so tired but Judy's still talking about something that one of the residents at work painted that day, so much pride in her voice that Jen doesn’t have the heart to stop her.

She can’t stop the yawn that escapes though, loud and long, making Judy abruptly halt and turn her way.

“Someone’s tired,” the brunette teases, “You should probably ride that wave and head up to bed.”

Jen nods, standing, and she just can’t help herself from blurting out a “come with me?”

Judy’s jaw falls, shocked, like she wasn’t ever expecting Jen to ask her into her bed. Which, honestly, is _fucking ridiculous._

“What.. umm I mean... why would you” she tries to start, eventually going with “I wouldn’t want to invade your personal space like that.”

Jen scoffs, because _how the fuck could Judy ever think she would not be welcome in her personal space, they’ve spent the entire night curled into each other._

“Just come. I wanna hear the rest of that story but I need to be fucking horizontal already before I fall asleep on this couch. And you know what my fucking back's like...” she tries to say reassuringly, gently offering a hand to the other woman to show that it’s okay.

They get up to the bedroom and Jen hands Judy some pyjamas, quickly going to change in the bathroom. By the time she gets back, Judy is wearing them but sat over the covers by the empty nightstand. Jen rolls her eyes a little but just climbs into bed, figuring Judy will too eventually, and motions for her to continue talking.

It’s kinda awkward, Judy clearly not entirely comfortable with the new step, but Jen can’t help but be so happy anyway. And when Judy finally lies down, still over the covers, but face inches from hers on the next pillow, Jen reaches an arm over the sheets to hold her just a little. It’s the first time Judy has truly smiled since they came upstairs.

Jen feels like she’s about to pass out at the sight of Judy on her bed, in her pyjamas, grin on her face just like she imagined.

It’s an incredible sight to get to go to sleep to.

She really tries not to cry when she wakes up the next morning alone, cold sheets still tucked in on the other side of the bed, the smell of Judy's perfume so faint that she’s clearly not been here in a few hours.

She obviously went to sleep in her own bed.

The tears can’t be held back the second time she brings Judy to bed and she wakes up alone though, nor the time after, or the time after that.

It feels something like heartbreak.

And yet she can’t stop. She keeps asking Judy to come upstairs with her, needing to be with Judy for just a little bit longer. Despite knowing that she’ll probably be gone again by morning, she always manages to sleep so much better, so much more peacefully, if Judy's face is the last thing she sees.

It’s so disgusting how she _needs_ the other woman now.

When Judy finally does stay the night for the first time, Jen wakes up in Judy's arms. It’s not the position she always imagined they’d be in, she _always_ imagined herself as the big spoon.

Reality turns out to be so much better. She’s never felt as peaceful as this, as safe and protected and loved.

_How can I wake up like this everyday? I'll do fucking anything._

But then Judy is awake. Jen feels her stirring behind her so she looks over her shoulder, just a little, not really wanting to move out of this position at all, gently whispering “hi”.

Judy does the unthinkable – she immediately pulls away, awkwardly fidgeting and clearing her throat before practically sprinting into the bathroom.

Jen's chest clenches.

*

A little while later, they’re over a bottle and a half of wine into the night, each too sleepy drunk to really stay upright so they’re slouched into each other, half lying down against the back of the sofa.

The documentary they’ve been watching, something about basket weavers and feminism in India that Jen finally agreed to see, has finished a few moments ago.

“Hmm, pass me the remote" Judy says, motioning to the other side of Jen, who barely answers, but whatever she mutters is definitely a negative. She’s far too comfortable like this and it’s way too much fucking effort to move her hand all the way from Judy’s thigh to the arm of the couch.

“Please, Jen” Judy pouts, and as much as Jen would normally do just about anything that adorable pout asks, _nope, isn’t going to happen, Jude._

The other woman clearly realises that she isn’t going to move, and decides to get it herself, putting one hand up on the back of the chair, leaning her body weight onto it as she hovers all the way over Jen to reach for it.

Jen's hand is still on Judy’s thigh, trapped between them, Judy's chest level with her face, which Jen barely even notices because _fuck,_ Judy is above her, so so close, looking down at her triumphantly as her fingers finally find the remote. She holds the position for barely a second before she’s climbing back off her, snuggling into her side again, already channel surfing as if nothing happened.

Jen’s entire being is fucking frozen.

She’s filled with images of Judy leaning over her like that. Of her whole body on top of hers. Of Judy learning down and kissing her, of running her hands all over her and licking and sucking down her body and never stopping and -

_Oh fuck she’s going to need to have sex again._

The whole ‘living our lives together celibately' is definitely not going to be a fucking thing for them.

“ - Is that okay?” Jen hears distantly, completely missing whatever Judy said, but the brunette gestures towards the tv so Jen tries a smile and nods, trying to clear her fucking head and concentrate on what they’re watching but all she can see is _Judy on top of her._

It’s torture really, sitting next to her friend, feeling her breath on her neck, Judy's hand on her thigh. It’s taking everything Jen has not to start fucking squirming every time the brunette subconsciously fidgets.

Especially whenever Judy’s hand moves against her leg. It really isn’t helping her to move on from the _scenes_ playing out in her brain.

Eventually, Jen just can’t fucking take it anymore.

She jumps up, a little too quickly with all the alcohol they’ve drank tonight, hoping she doesn’t look anywhere near as red faced and turned on as she feels.

“I, umm, I’m going to go to bed. Early meeting tomorrow and everything...” she mumbles, practically running out the room before Judy can make a move to join her like has become their normal after nights like these.

There’s no fucking way she can sleep next to her tonight, feel her hands over her and her body against her, not when she’s feeling like this.

For the first time in weeks, Jen desperately hopes Judy stays in the guesthouse.

She gets to her room and waits, praying to something she doesn’t even fucking believe in until she hears the backdoor shut and lock, knowing that means Judy has gone outside to her own bedroom for the night.

Jesus Chris, fucking thank you.

She thinks about trying to find her vibrator out, she hasn’t used it in oh so long, really hasn’t felt any sort of sexual urge in such a long time, but honestly, she cant be fucking bothered with the effort of searching for it. She’s not sure she can wait a second longer.

There’s no way she’s getting to sleep in this state.

She sits on the bed, unbuttoning her pants, too desperate (and maybe a little too insecure) to take off any of her clothes.

She sees Judy leaning over her, hands running over her chest, lips on her neck, imagines having all of Judy's fucking enthusiasm and desire to please everyone focused on _pleasing_ _her_ , and she can’t stop her hands from wandering across herself. She finally reaches down and-

_Oh fuck, was I really sitting next to my best friend when I was this fucking wet?_

She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, that she should really think about anything else, anyone else, because she’s going to have to face her friend in the morning.

But then another image appears in Jen's mind, one of Judy bending down, gently placing kisses all across her center and looking up at her with twinkling eyes, and she fucking moans, far too loud, and all the doubts flee her mind.

She’s leaning into the fantasy, trying to picture how eagerly she would be working her up, how loving her touches would be, how it would feel to have Judy’s fingers inside her.

She comes imagining what Judy’s smug grin would be like once she’s finally torn Jen apart.

Sleep for once isn’t hard, which is so unusual if she is ever without Judy beside her lately. She just feels so satisfied and relaxed - and maybe still just a little bit drunk enough – that sleep comes before she can start to think.

It isn’t until the next day that the guilt and the shame really set in.

Everything between them feels different now. Every smile and touch set Jen’s body on fire now. And Jen feels awful about it because they really are still technically just friends. She shouldn’t be picturing Judy naked every time she does something entirely innocent like send a fucking smile her way, especially not when her children in the room helping her make cookies.

She needs to get this thing under control.

*

Jen really does not think about the consequences of getting dressed up and going dancing with Judy.

She has always really wanted to see what the other woman can do, how she moves, sure, but she really wasn’t thinking about that when she suggested going to a club. For Jen, dancing is just something that she loves to do. She finds it so freeing. So, she thought it could be fun, to really let herself relax like that with her best friend around.

She probably should have thought about what would happen when she has Judy fucking Hale pressed up against her and she can’t touch her – at least not more than a subtle hand on the waist or against her neck.

It is fucking killing her.

How is she meant to get through this night, with Judy looking like sex on a stick, hair dishevelled, smelling like tequila, smiling and laughing and tossing her head back, showing off that neck, and Judy’s drunk enough that she will not stop fucking touching her. Everywhere.

Jen might actually explode if something doesn’t happen tonight.

She’s five seconds from saying fuck it and making out with her in the middle of the crowded dance floor when some young guy comes sliding up to them asking Judy to dance and what does Judy do? The lovely, ridiculous, wonderful woman who can’t bear to disappoint anyone? She fucking says yes.

So now, not only is Jen more turned on than she’s probably been in her entire fucking life, she’s also turning into a jealous wreck.

She can’t even blame Judy for not staying with her – Jen still hasn’t been brave enough to fully put herself out there yet, and maybe if she had, Judy would be pushing into her up against the bathroom wall right now instead of leaving her on her fucking own.

It’s not like she hasn’t been trying – all these small, tiny things that she’s trying to do to show she cares feel like she’s planning a fucking flash-mob proposal with how horrifyingly nervous she gets.

But she still hasn’t said anything, and now someone else is touching Judy whilst she’s standing at the fucking bar drinking more tequila and trying to hold herself back from storming over and ripping that asshole’s lucky fucking hands off.

For tonight, Jen’s going to have to be content to be in this fucking gigantic mess she’s made, but seriously, she’s going to have to do something fucking soon.

She gets ends up getting outrageously drunk, downing so many shots that even she, with her track record with alcohol, definitely won’t be able to handle. But she trusts Judy to find her and make sure they both get home okay. Once she’s finished dancing with that dickwad anyway.

She wakes up the next morning on the sofa, blanket thrown over her, not able to remember anything else that happened. But she senses the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen, hears occasional cooking noises, like Judy is trying to be really quiet, and she figures that whatever happened in the time she can’t remember, she didn’t fuck everything up too bad.

*

“No. I hit him”.

Jen can’t understand what Judy means.

_What the fuck are you talking about Judy? Are you trying to make me feel better about fucking being responsible for my kids not having a father anymore? Because it doesn’t make any fucking sense._

Her mind is racing, she feels so guilty and angry at herself and so fucking sad, and Judy talking ridiculous nonsense isn’t fucking helping.

“I had a ’66 Mustang.”

Jen brain freezes at that, the words echoing in her head because they don’t make any fucking sense. There’s no way Judy, kind lovely Judy who wouldn’t hurt anyone, who has shown so much _love_ to Jen and her family, did what she’s trying to say she did.

“And then I wanted to go back, but I couldn’t.”

 _Why couldn’t you Jude? What the fuck reason could_ you _have for leaving Ted to fucking die?_

‘Steve’, some distant part of Jen’s brain responds, but she pushes it down, already fighting to keep up with anything the other woman is saying because none of it is fucking registering.

“I thought if I could just… somehow make it up to you.”

_Wait… please don’t tell me this is what this whole thing has been about. Please don’t let that be why you’re here with me. No. No, no, no, no, no._

_How could you fucking do this to me._

“I had no idea that I was going to love you so much, or the boys, or that you guys would become my family.”

_I loved you._

“You can die.”

*

Jen’s so angry that she trashes the guesthouse, burns anything that’ll take, whatever she can find.

It takes fucking forever to do, and she’s already starting to regret the entire thing by the time she’s done with the paintings and only half way through the clothes, but she channels whatever sadness she’s feeling back into the comfort of anger and pushes through.

She can’t seem to focus her anger on Judy though, not really.

She’s angry at herself mostly.

Jen hates herself for letting herself fall so deeply for someone she apparently doesn’t even know. She hates herself for letting her children get so close to someone without thinking twice about it.

She hates herself for not seeing that Judy was still hiding stuff from Jen, for letting her hide something that was so clearly bringing herself so much pain.

Because that’s the thing, despite it all, she can’t help but care for Judy. She can’t help but hate that the woman was ever in any pain at all because of Jen, even if it was because she was keeping secrets from her again.

She’s starting to let that tiny part of her brain that knew the truth from the beginning come to light.

She _knows_ that Judy would never have hurt Ted intentionally, that she absolutely would have stopped and helped her husband. She the only possible reason is that Steve made her drive away, that he is the one truly to blame.

It isn’t long before Jen hates herself for ever being so angry at Judy too.

She was so incredibly awful to the other woman. She’d always vowed to never treat Judy like that, to never treat her like Steve treated her. And yet, the second Jen felt like she was flailing, she was directing everything to Judy in anger. She really shouldn’t have fucking done that.

“Where’s Judy?” Charlie asks at Henry’s baptism, and Jen feels the emotions she’s been trying to keep contained immediately threatening to break through, and there’s no fucking way she’s going to let herself break down in the middle of a fucking church.

“Um… Judy’s not coming. She’s not gonna be in our lives anymore” Jen answers with conviction.

_Why does that feel like such a fucking lie?_

*

Jen never really feels regretful after she kills Steve.

She feels so guilty about the pain that it brings Judy – seeing her suffer through stuffing her ex in a freezer, then burying him in the ground is torture.

But she could never really regret stopping Steve from ever being able to hurt Judy again.

She’s so fucking angry when he walks into her yard. All of the self-hate and guilt and sadness she feels about Judy and Ted manifests so easily into rage and _finally_ there’s an appropriate target in front of her to explode upon, someone that actually is responsible for the entire mess that her life has become.

Because she definitely doesn’t blame Judy anymore. She doesn’t hate the woman – honestly Jen doesn’t think she’s fucking capable of hating her.

If anything, the whole situation eventually makes the love she has for Judy grow, because she knows what Steve put Judy through, knows how awful and abusive he was, knows how terrible Judy must have felt ever since, and yet she never stopped being the incredible ray of sunshine in Jen’s life.

Maybe it’s ridiculous, but they’ve both killed men, both hurt each other so much. But Jen _needs_ Judy, so deeply that she’s not even going to pretend she doesn’t like it anymore. They’re long past being like normal people.

When Judy moves back in, she seems so uncomfortable around Jen. It’s like now there’s no secret between them, she doesn’t know how to act anymore. It makes the blonde ache every time they interact.

Jen doesn’t really know what to do to make it better, but she decides it can’t hurt to just try to show the other woman that she loves her, in every way possible.

She becomes so fucking clingy that even the lovely, incredibly tactile Judy must be finding it gross, hovering and touching and practically refusing to let go of her in case Judy decides that she actually is too upset about what she did to Steve and gets up and leaves.

Judy stays.

They eventually settle back into how it was before, making breakfast together in the morning, cuddling long into the night with copious quantities of alcohol on the couch, holding each other in Jen’s bed whilst they sleep.

Jen never stops taking every opportunity to show Judy how much she is loved though. She never wants Judy to think for a second that Jen could still be angry or upset with her for what happened; she is always and completely forgiven.

*

One thing that Jen does regret is getting rid of all of Judy’s things. She knows how much having her own space meant to Judy and hates that she literally sent that up in flames.

She starts buying things for Judy, to try and make amends, spending all this time in these weird hippy-type stores looking at incense sticks and statues and big wall coverings, anything that she thinks Judy might like.

She hands her the first gift in a small paper bag when they’re in the living room one day.

“What’s this?” Judy asks, smiling questioningly at Jen, like she’s wondering why she’s being so weird but is also really happy about it.

Jen tries to hide a blush and motions for her to open it already, watching as Judy pulls out a tiny buddha from the bag. It’s only about two inches high, but it’s actually kind of cute, not that Jen is going to ever admit that out loud.

“Jen!” Judy exhales, “oh god, you got me a buddha? Why?”

“This is your home too now, you should have some of your stuff around here. And, well, I burnt all your other stuff so…” Jen shrugs.

Judy’s face softens impossibly, offering her friend such a watery smile that Jen has to look away, not quite managing to hide her own.

“Okay, okay, enough with the sappiness. We need to go cook dinner. Which means that you need to go cook dinner so I don’t poison us all…”

Judy laughs, letting Jen take her new present from her hand, watching as the blonde dumps it on the cabinet next to the tv before walking into the kitchen.

It’s still in that spot a month later.

All the other gifts Jen gets for her end up scattered across the house too, some candles in her bedroom, patterned cushions on the couch, teapot in the kitchen. Almost nothing ends up in the guesthouse like she originally intended.

Judy seems to suddenly notice all her stuff everywhere one day, and tries to apologise, saying she’ll move it all, but Jen rushes to reassure her that it’s okay, that it’s her home too, and will always be her home no matter what happens.

Eventually, Judy starts buying more of her own stuff again. None of that ends up in the guest house either.

*

Sometimes Jen starts to wonder if it’s all in her head.

Does Judy even like her at all? Or has she lost her fucking mind and imagined their entire fucking relationship?

It’s a thought that starts occurring to her more and more now. They're good, finally, no more secrets jammed in between them, Ted and Steve long gone from their lives, and yet still nothing has fucking changed between them.

What else is standing in their way?

She’s starting to become more and more disappointed every time Judy kisses her cheek instead of her lips, or curls around her at night without trying to touch her. And fuck, whenever Judy says ‘I love you', the happiness she feels is dimming more and more, because _fucking do you, Judes?_

Disappointment is tinging all their interactions, and Jen hates it.

The doubt it causes scares Jen – she has no fucking clue what she would do if her feelings aren’t returned.

But the thing is, most of the time, whenever doubt and disappointment aren’t threatening to overwhelm her, Jen is so fucking sure that Judy has to feel the same.

Nothing that feels this fucking strong could ever be one sided.

And, yeah, sometimes the way she outwardly acts is a little disappointing, pulling away or just not getting it when Jen is trying to _say_ things to her.

But then Judy will look at her, eyes so full of adoration and care and fucking heat, or she’ll run her hand with so much tenderness, and fuck it feels so much more than friendship.

It just makes Jen more confused, because if deep down Judy has all these feelings too, why the fuck can’t they just get on with it?

*

One morning, Jen wakes up to find Judy staring at her, studying her like she’s about to write a fucking ’100 Reasons Why Jennifer Harding is Entirely Perfect' dissertation. Jen has to swallow to try to choke back the emotion that springs to life inside her. _Don’t fucking cry at 6am, Jen._

But then Judy must notice that she’s awake, because right away Judy is shifting away, rambling lies about needing to go make breakfast and escaping to the safety of the kitchen.

Jen, thankfully, isn’t really alert enough to feel any pain from the interaction for once.

She smiles, remembering the way Judy was looking at her with so much love, rolling over to go back to back to sleep for a while. She actually feels sort of hopeful for the first time in weeks.

It’s nice.

*

Then there’s another day, the next weekend, when Jen has some fucking awful fancy event to go to with Lorna. Judy's offered to stay home with the boys (despite Jen repeatedly trying to insist that Judy be her _date_. _God that fucking woman will not take a hint.)_

Jen walks into the living room in a full on fucking tux. She mostly bought it because she knows how much it will piss Lorna off, but she’s not gonna lie, she’s really curious about what Judy’s reaction will be too.

Judy doesn’t disappoint.

The second she sees Jen, she freezes. She stares and stares, eyes moving so slowly, lingering for _seconds_ on every part of Jen’s body.

It lasts so long that Jen starts to consider that she should feel completely disgusting, being fucking leered at like that. And then the insecurity starts to kick in, and she’s questioning if she looks fucking awful in this damn suit and maybe she needs to go and change. She has a boring black dress somewhere that will probably do...

But then Judy finally reaches her eyes, and her pupils... well, Judy’s eyes might just be the fucking hottest thing Jen has ever seen. _And just because she was fucking looking at me?_

Jen can’t breathe.

So Judy definitely finds her attractive, there’s absolutely no fucking doubt about that.

The other woman seems to snap out of it, shaking her head clear and blushing so bright Jen just has to tease her for it.

“What do you think? If you stared any longer I might’ve had to go and put something different on...”

“No!” Judy practically shouts, like that would be the biggest tragedy. Jen can’t stop the fucking huge smug grin that appears when she only seems to get more embarrassed.

“I umm, I mean, you’ll be fighting off all the suitors tonight that’s for sure. And probably Lorna too, once she sees you" she continues, looking immediately like she regrets talking about Jen being near anyone else.

Jen steps closer, so close to Judy, about to suggest that she really doesn’t have to fucking go tonight, that they can go upstairs and do whatever Judy is still clearly thinking about somewhere in her mind that is putting such fucking _fire_ in her eyes.

But then they hear a “Judy!” coming from upstairs, and Judy springs away, rushing out the room to go and see what Henry wants.

Jen has to lean back against the sofa to stay standing. Her body is fucking burning, her nerve endings have never been on edge. _Something_ _was about to fucking happen._ It’s all she can do not to run after her and mount Judy on whatever the fucking nearest surface is.

She should really get going though, get dealing with Lorna over with.

And besides, once again, Judy is already gone.

*

There’s something about the way that Judy subconsciously acts towards Jen that makes her heart sing.

Judy will lean into her if she’s standing next to her, will reach a out to gently touch her if they pass each other in the hallway or the kitchen, holding her whilst they sleep. She absolutely cannot manage to sit even an inch away from her on the sofa anymore, even if they’re arguing, a hand instinctively sitting on Jen’s leg or arm as soon as she’s there.

It’s like her body is always calling out to Jen, trying to pull her in closer. That has to mean something, right?

But it’s so different from how she consciously acts, when she’s all cautious and considerate. It’s like the second Judy realises what she’s doing – when she wakes up or notices her hand – she’s immediately jolting away, apologising for being in Jen’s space or making an excuse to be elsewhere.

Jen’s left feeling so fucking confused.

*

Hope starts to become Jen’s very least favourite feeling.

She used to love it, how positive and optimistic she was about her future, _their_ future. Now the thought of the future just makes her want to cry.

Every time the hope builds up again, whenever Jen starts to really think that Judy might love her too, it always comes shattering back down.

The fall is worse than the high.

She ends up fighting back tears way too often, excusing herself to the bathroom so frequently she probably looks like she has a problem, just because Judy pulled her hand away or joked off Jen’s declarations of love.

Hope is just so damn fucking painful.

*

Jen eventually starts to resent feeling hopeful.

She hates it, knowing it’s only going to bring her pain.

And she maybe starts to resent Judy just a little bit too.

Because why the fuck does Jen have to go through all of this, all the hopeful highs and the tearful lows, whilst Judy is just sat there looking totally fucking fine, totally unaffected by all the interactions that make Jen want to scream and cry and shake her the fuck awake.

The very last thing she wants to do is feel angry towards Judy, to show anger to her ever again after all she has been through, all Jen has put her through.

It’s so fucking hard not to, though, when Jen's emotions are being tugged around like this.

*

There are moments that Jen thinks she just can’t take it anymore, where actual, real anger starts to build up at how Judy isn’t suffering like she is.

The animosity she feels makes her so ashamed that she’s starting to hate herself again. Especially because her anger seems to rear it’s head most at moments when Judy is at her happiest, whenever she is the most comfortable and relaxed and maybe a little flirty.

Like when Judy's touching her leg more intentionally, or biting her lip and saying something sort of suggestive and telling Jen how hot she is.

Or when Jen says something mean and Judy just scoffs and jokes “I know you love me really".

Every time now, Jen freezes when something like that happens, feeling a little hint of anger rise again in her chest, because _how the fuck doesn’t Judy know what she’s doing to her???_

_*_

It all explodes on a completely normal day.

They’re say outside talking, wine glasses on the table in front of them but not yet poured, both trying to be a little better about how much they’re day drinking.

“Oh god, you should’ve seen it Jen, Henry was so good with the watercolours! He barely even asked for help from me. You need to get him to show it to you later it’s so good!”

Jen’s beaming at the way Judy is talking about her son, their son. It makes her heart so fucking full seeing Judy like this, so loving and excited.

Honestly, Jen has no idea why she does it. There’s nothing exceptional about this moment, she isnt drunk, she isn’t overly turned on, they aren’t all emotional and weepy.

She just loves this woman so fucking much.

So she’s leaning in, and it’s the most terrible idea, she knows she should stop herself like she has a million times before.

But she’s so fucking tired of feeling like this, of having all this emotion stuffed inside of her and just not knowing. She just needs to fucking know. She needs this all to end, one way or the other, before everything rips out of her. She has no idea what will happen if it does.

Judy still hasn’t noticed what Jen's doing, how close they are, still happily chatting away about her afternoon with Henry.

Jen should really pull away. She’s so fucking close, barely an inch away. She needs to stop this and -

_Oh._

_That’s what Judy's lips feel like._

_*_

Jen leans in to kiss her.

It barely lasts a moment before Judy pulls away.


End file.
